


WildFlowers

by What_the_em



Category: Sherlock BBC
Genre: M/M, Torture, kidnap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_the_em/pseuds/What_the_em
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John feels like he's being watched. Of course he didn't tell Sherlock, he just came back from being dead and would think he's being naive. When John goes missing and a box of flowers and a video tape shows up at his door, for once in his life, Sherlock is scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

He was stepping out of the cabbie, when he first began suspecting. His ears must've betrayed him. 

But it sounded like a camera shutter.

"Sherlock!" He hollered, climbing the stairs up to his room, following the sound of the violin. 

"Yes. Hello John. Thank you." He replies calmly, holding his hand out for the bottle of glue he requested for his 'experiment.'

~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time was a little more inconspicuous. He was on his way to work 2 weeks later, walking , to enjoy the weather, when he sees someone sitting on the bench reading. 

Now, it wouldn't have been weird for him to look up when John passed, except he noticed something. 

The book was upside down.

After that, he confronted Sherlock.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Johns POV  
**************  
"Sherlock?" I whispered quietly, trying not to completely disturb his light slumber. Who am I kidding? He doesn't sleep. 

He flips over in the bed, peering over the comforter, sighing deeply. 

"What is it, John?" He asks, obviously annoyed.

"I think I'm being followed." I say quietly, embarrassed that I feel the need to ask for help. I'm an Ex-Army Doctor for christ sakes!

Sherlock sits up abruptly, furrowing his eyebrows. " Why do you think this?" 

"Well, a few weeks ago I could've sworn someone was taking pictures of me." I start, looking at my feet. "And on my way to work this morning, someone was sitting on the same bench I pass everyday, reading a book and watching me." 

He scoffs and lays back down. "That's hardly anything to fret about John. People read outside all the time." 

"That's the thing." I continue, "The book was on one of the middle pages." 

He stays silent, and I sigh, sitting rudely on the edge of the bed. 

"Sherlock." I growl. "The book was upside down." 

***************

"Ooooh" Sherlock says quietly. "OOooh!" He yells, jumping out of bed, flying past his flat mate, pouncing down the stairs.

He smoothly puts on his coat and opens the door. "Brilliant, John!" He compliments, stepping out, "You solved the case!" 

When John was alone, he made himself a cuppa, and sat on the sofa.

"3 hours, and he still hasn't come back!" He mutters to himself, slipping on his coat, and following out the door. 

Little did he know, he wouldn't be coming back.

~~~~~~~~~~~  
Lestrade POV  
*****************  
"Where's your sidekick?" Donovan sneers, watching Sherlock swagger into the crime scene. 

"At home. Just like the husband you're cheating on." He dead pans, and I have to turn away to chuckle. 

She scoffs and moves out of the way, letting him in. He smirks to himself, deducing the crime to me, solving it without studder.

"The butler did it." He says casually, and Anderson burst out laughing. 

"What. Is so funny?" He objects, turning around to a red faced detective. 

"That's so cliché!" He gasps out, and Sherlock tssk's in dismay. 

"May I go now, Lestrade?"

I lean against the door, filling out paperwork on the clip board. 

I shoo him with my hand. "Go. Go see your boyfriend." I groan out, and he didn't correct me.


	2. Chapter Two

Sherlocks POV  
*******************

I took the cabbie tonight. When I pass the bench John is always passing on his way to work, when I stop the driver. 

"Stay here." I yell into the window, not bothering to look back. 

When I get close enough to the bench, I see an envelope with a melted wax brand holding it closed. 

'Sherlock Holmes' was signed on the outside in big, delicate loops. 

Hmm. I gently tore it open, revealing a flower, and a note. 

' Mr.Holmes, 

I want you to realize that whilst you were out saving the world from violent crimes, your flat mate, left to find you. In order to confirm your safety. John Watson, Ex-Army Doctor, here back from Afghanistan, with a sister, Harry Watson, recently back with girlfriend after their separation, is NOT going to be there when you return to 221B Baker Street. But if you want need a clue, you mustn't look any farther, because I gave you one, the WildFlower.

Sincerely,   
You're Cabbie Driver '

His breath hitched in his throat when he looked back at his cabbie, to realize it had driven away. 

Stupid! I let my emotions get in the way, and the criminal leave. 

I walked the rest of the way, finding a small square box on my doorstep, the door cracked open, and a blood stain on the door knocker. 

I analyze the crime scene, deducing what happened. 

I close my eyes for 3 seconds then shoot them open. Capturing every detail.

"John was slipping on his jacket, opening the door, he took approximately two steps before getting a syringe stabbed in his arm. John, coming from being a doctor in the army, had a resistance against it, fought back. He got in few punches, when the second assailant grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the door. They threw him over their shoulder and walked him that way" I say all that out loud, pointing across the street " into the back of their truck, skidding away." 

I hear a soft clapping, and look up to see Ms.Hudson standing there, with a bruise on her left cheek. Ms.Hudson! 

I jump in the door, closing and locking it behind me. I gently grab her shoulders leaning close to her face. 

"Did you see what happened to John? Who was the assailant?What did he look like? Is John badly hurt?" I blur out in one breathe, but she understood me...just like John.

"Uh Yes, no idea, bearded with very old style parted hair, yes." She says sadly.

I skim through the answers stopping at the last. John was ?

"What do you mean John was badly hurt?" I question.

"Well, they said that they were going to 'burn the heart out of you' and that the only way to hurt you is to harm John. Every 4 hours you don't solve it, they are going to deliver a video, of him being tortured." She cries.

"Burn the heart out of you, burn the heart-" 

My eyes widen...Moriarty. But he's dead, Moran. But he's also. 

"Call Mycroft and tell him he's an incompetent arse, and then tell him about John, I'm gonna open this box." I mutter the last part, sitting on the sofa. 

I gently take Johns Swiss off of the end table, slicing open the cardboard.

Inside was a bundle of WildFlowers and a video. My breath hitches in my throat. 

It has begun.


	3. Chapter Three

Johns POV. ( Torture :( , skip to Sherlocks POV if you don't like John!torture)  
************  
PLACED THREE HOURS BEFORE SHERLOCK RECEIVED THE DVD  
>  
I awoke groggily, reaching my hands up to wipe my eyes, when I realized I was chained. Great, just great.

Don't even try to get out of those, sweetie." 

I know that voice. "Colonel Sebastian Moran." I said clearly.

"Yes, Yes. You see my boyfriend here says you're getting in the way here, and-"

"I want Sherlock dead." Moriarty beamed, walking out of the darkness. 

I rolled my eyes, when I felt a breeze. No shirt? 

Jim stalked over to me with ease, a pistol in his hand. His fingers are trembling on the trigger. Not used to holding one then. 

"What do you want, Moriarty? 

"I want you to tell me what you felt without Sherlock." He says, moving a tripod with a camera into view, the green light showing it was on.

I thought for a moment, questioning whether or not to answer, before simply stating. “With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.” 

He instinctively squeezed the trigger by pure reflex, shooting the ground in front of me, sending a ringing echoing through the room. "Don't think quoting 'How to Kill a Mockingbird' will get me to release you. I'm going to break you,...mutilate you until you scream." 

I shudder, as his warm breathe lingers on my neck, and he pulls away. "Seb." He says sternly, holding his hand out, it getting filled with a small whip. 

It's very familiar. 

" The infamous cat o' nine tails is still used in the army, John. You've received this punishment, haven't you John?" Moran taunts. 

"And not all such instruments of torture are simple nine-tailed floggers. Some have barbed wire attached to the tails to inflict further pain and damage. Like the one I've brought today." Moriarty chimes in, looking at the camera, when it all clicked.

They are going to torture me, until Sherlock gives in. He won't. I won't let them take him down like that. They will probably send him videos of me. 

 

No ones POV  
*****************

The first whip sent John screaming. He wasn't ready. The five metal barbed wires left red welts on his chest. Unfortunately, 5 more strikes, sent him choking on his own blood. 

"Please." He coughed out, and Sebastian stopped, picking up a bottle of Peroxide. 

When the doctor saw it, he whimpered. "Don't. No, pl-please." 

It stung. Ohhh did it sting. They poured it slowly over the 30 red cuts, watching happily as they foamed and burned Johns abdomen. 

"Just making sure you don't get infected, Laddie!" Moran purred, sending the rest of the bottle chugging down his face. 

"Go to Hell." He sputtered through the alcohol, spitting in on the Colonel. 

One more whip across the chest silenced the doctor into small moans of pain, and they put the bloodied whip back on the tray. 

"Cut the tape." Jim said, "That's all for now." 

 

Sherlocks POV  
********************

I put the DVD into the Telly, sitting on the edge of the sofa. 

"I want Sherlock dead." Moriarty beamed, walking out of the darkness. 

John lay there with a bare chest, rolling his eyes. Typical Dr.Watson, he's going to get himself killed.

"What do you want, Moriarty? 

"I want you to tell me what you felt without Sherlock." 

John waited, then answered. “With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.” 

My heart fluttered slightly, and I gripped the edge of the side table as the shot went off. 

Where did it land, Sherlock? Is John hurt?

"Don't think quoting 'How to Kill a Mockingbird' will get me to release you. I'm going to break you,...mutilate you until you scream." Moriarty sneers, into my doctors face. I glare at the screen, scooting closer. 

 

"Seb." He says sternly, holding his hand out, it getting filled with a small whip. 

Oh no. No no no no no.

" The infamous cat o' nine tails is still used in the army. You've received this punishment, haven't you John?" Moran taunts. 

"And not all such instruments of torture are simple nine-tailed floggers. Some have barbed wire attached to the tails to inflict further pain and damage. Like the one I've brought today." Moriarty chimes in, looking at the camera.

"6 whips." I utter to myself.

I've heard of this before. One country has not only been accused of torture and cruel treatment of prisoners, but in 2005 was ordered by the Inter-American Court of Human Rights to pay $50,000 for "moral damages" and psychiatric and physical care to a prisoner who had received 15 strokes. 

I pause it where Moriarty is taunting him, examining the surroundings. 

Stone walls, one singles light bulb hanging loosely from the ceiling. When I see John looking at the camera, gesturing to his hand. 

He starts tapping, morse code? I replay and rewind, writing down his taps.

.. / .- -- / .. -. / .- -. / . -- .--. - -.-- / -... ..- -. -.- . .-. .-.-.- / ..- -. -.. . .-. / --. .-. --- ..- -. -.. .-.-.- / .-.. --- --- -.- / ..-. --- .-. / ..-. .-.. --- .-- . .-. ... .-.-.-

( I am in an empty bunker. Under ground. Look for flowers. ) 

Brilliant, John! I call up Lestrade.

It's time to retrieve my doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

WildFlowers Chappie 4

John POV  
************

"Hello Mate!" Moran sneered, pulling up my head by my hair, facing me towards the camera again, where Moriarty was clicking it on. 

"Say hi, John! Don't be shy. " Jim says happily. "I bet Sherlock knows where you are by now, speaking of. I was watching the recording yesterday, after I sent it o' course, when I saw you tapping your chair. I should've known you would try something. Now" He clapped. "For your punishment." 

. . . . . 2 hours later

When they were done with me, new marks on my back, they showered me with alcohol and turned off the camera. 

I suppose I should be proud, I didn't scream as much this time..

Halfway through the doorway, Sebastian turned around and winked at me. 

I flipped him off as he walked away, then let my eyes drift close. 

'Come on Sherlock.' 

 

Lestrade POV  
***************

"Where's John?" I question as Sherlock burst through the doors straight into my office. 

"Johns been kidnapped by Moriarty and Sebastian Moran. I know where they are... Let's go." He said painfully, tossing a DVD onto the desk, then turning back around swiftly, me following him out. 

He took the drivers side, pulling out of the building lot. 

"Where are we going?" I ask. Who does he think he is driving my car! 

"I am Sherlock Holmes." He protests," and we are going to the underground bunker beneath the church." He says. 

"John!" Sherlock yells, running in, unarmed. 

"Bloody hell." I mumble, running after him. 

"John!" 

"D-down here." I hear faintly, as the Consulting Detective tears the rug off the floor, revealing a small door. 

He looks up at me. "Stay here. If you see Moriarty or Moran. Get to. them before I do. "

He slipped down the ladder, still yelling for John, when I heard a gasp, then a chuckle. 

"My my my, look what we have here Seb!" Moriarty sang as I reached for my gun, aiming it at him. 

"Get rid of him!" Moran sneered pulling out his gun. We both fired simultaneously. 

We both collapsed. 

 

John POV  
***********  
"John!" I heard Sherlock yell. I whimpered around the cloth they shoved in my mouth before they left. 

"John!" I heard again, and I finally pushed the gag over, and softly whispered. 

"D-down here." 

I hear him say something and then his slick shoes sliding down the ladder. 

His eyes land on me, and I'm pretty sure he growled. He swaggered over, pulling out the towel and capturing my mouth in a kiss.

My eyes widened, and he was about to pull away when I reciprocated. 

That's when I heard shouts and two gunshots. My 'Captain John Watson' kicked in and I gently pulled away. 

"Please Sherlock." I say sternly. "Unbuckle my wrists and ankles." 

He nods and gets at it. 

"John? Are you alright?" I hear Lestrade ask. 

"Yeah yeah." I say. "You?" I question. 

"Just a small gunshot wound to the leg. I'll be alright." I was about to reply, when he continued. "But uhh."

"What Lestrade?" Sherlock persists, picking me up, placing me excruciatingly on the stone.

"Morans dead...and Moriartys gone."


End file.
